Yes, I am, and yes I do. I didn’t get the kind of “wood” from Eric that you all are thinkin’ ’bout. I got his hard wood now. Hell, there might even be some ammunition in that wood. While some returned home, happy to have their nuts, and leave their chairs there, other’s returned home with wood. See what I’m talkin’ ’bout here?

My plans… simple. Put that wood on Ebay! Lord knows there’s plenty of women that want Eric’s wood, and I’ve got it.

Now, the other thing about Erics wood… He grows his own, and they’re hung trees now. Do you all know anybody else that is so proud of his wood that he has a tree right in the front yard sportin’ a boner? No? Me niether. I thought I had a picture of said tree, however, I think Bou might have … made off with that picture. She took most of the pictures as it got later on Saturday night. Thanks Bou! I could be wrong. And if she did, I’ll never tell. Everybody needs to “take something” home with ‘em. She might have the picture, but I’ve got the wood, and the targets(full of holes). I can still use ‘em for something, well, ok, not for a cooler, but they’ll hold the empties alright. Did I mention I saw a couple celeb’s at Eric’s house? Hell, I saw the “Hot” Martha Stewart, and also Sarah Jessica Parker of “Sex in the City” fame. (AKA Morrigan). See, it was a good weekend. I met the King and Queen from of the Castle, and the bleeder. Then there was John from the closet. That doesn’t even cover Princess Cat… What a sweetie with a pretty smile. And Smart! Hell, I’ve not even mentioned Tammi, or Sissy, or The ‘fadda or the dynamite… See, this post took so long because it is so long.

Everybody there was hella cool. It’s the most fun I’ve had(until Sunday mornin’), in a long time. Let’s just say, when I awoke on Sunday, after bein’ given an extra hour to do so, I was… still “affected” by the previous nights libations. It wasn’t until a couple hours into the drive back I started feelin’ like absolute shit, or fido’s ass, if you don’t understand absolute shit, Key… Now, I’ve got serious ‘roll work to do. Catchin’ up on the folks that were there as well. I got to see what kind of lies they’re tellin’.

Based on the “talent” there… and I ain’t talkin’ Jim, Denny, and Eric, or writin’ talent, ’cause that was there in force as well. I think my first meet was the one to be at.

I have not passed out enough linky love to justify the time I had there… so much to remember… new names, new faces, hell, new blogs. I just know I enjoyed it and hope to do it again sometime.

There’s a plenty more folks I met and enjoyed sharin’ time with, but I’m out of white space ’bout now, and… well, truth be told I’m still recoverin’. I’ll get round to it though… I will. If I left anyboy out, it wasn’t intentional… you just probably got stored in a brain cell that ain’t workin’ right anymore. Remind me please!

Thanks E and F.

PS: I almost forgot… my buddy the newly “dotted” Yabu, filled in for me and did, I thought, a sweet job. Plus, while I didn’t leave Eric’s with Yabu’s wood, I got his sauce… Thanks man… just thanks.

PS:(again days later) I don’t know how I missed mentionin’ the fact that Matt was there for real in person. The Rock Star himself… He was one of the first MIL Bloggers I started readin’. I saw ‘Paratrooper of Love’ and thought I was gonna get some good “mile high” stories… If memory serves me, I think I got to Eric’s place via Matt’s. Sorry Matt… my bad man.

…my friend.

I know you had a “get down” time.

Please change the locks. I need no blame for some unwanted Juju.

Cool Runnings!

I am Yabu, and I’m outta here.

In grammar school, my teacher gave me an assignment. She wanted me to explain “moral”.

Oh shit – Well, my uncle Bryan was flying over Viet Nam and all he had with him was a .50 caliber machine gun with 50 rounds of ammunition, a bayonet, and a case of beer. He was hit by a SAM and had to bail out.

On the way down – he drank the beer.

When he landed, 150 enemy soldiers surrounded him. He killed the first 50 with his gun, and when he ran out of ammo, he gutted another 50 with his bayonet. When the bayonet broke, he killed the rest with his bare hands.

My teacher asked, “what could possibly be the moral of this story?”

I said: “Don’t Fuck with Uncle Bryan when he’s been Drinking”

I am Yabu, and I believe in Juju.

I have felt their spirits in these places, and in many others.

Little Big Horn
Chichén Itzá
The Coliseum in Rome
Normandy, France
Gettysburg
Dresden

Many people fear the souls; I for one, do not. Entire religions are focused around ancestor and soul worship. Soul is from the matters of the unseen and nothing can be said in its explanation without established proofs.

I’m talking some Juju. Some Juju.

I’ve also had a few cold beverages with Santa Claus.

I am Yabu, and I can fly a Sleigh.

Several friends and I chartered a 55 ft. Gulfstar sloop in Ft. Lauderdale and sailed over to the Abaco Islands. The “Syncopation” had dancing room below, drew 9 ft., and was a perfect party situation. The six of us were going to sail from Ft. Lauderdale to Nassau, pick up the wives and girlfriends (who were flying in), and continue on to Miss Emily’s Blue Bee Bar on Green Turtle Cay, which is famous for the Goombay Smash. The Goombay’s are another story all together.

At about 5:00 pm, we headed down the inter-coastal with the boat owner who was drunk as a bicycle. Our plan was to stop at a marina, top off the tanks, drop off the drunk, and head for the Gulf Stream. No problem. The wind was light, so we fired up the diesel and aimed for Don’t Rock. About two hours later, when it was dark and we were in the middle of the shipping and cruise ship lanes, the damn motor stopped. No wind for the sails, no motor, no moon, drifting around in front 800 ft. ships, not a good feeling.

We were out of options, except for MAYDAY. That worked, and we were towed back to port. After the mechanics were called, we determined the problem. The damn drunk boat owner had topped off the diesel tanks with water, and the water tanks with diesel. It only set us back a day, a bunch of “up front” cash (which we later deducted from the bill) to have the engine rebuilt. Let me tell you something though; no mater how many times you flush the water tanks – once they’ve had diesel fuel in them, your screwed.

Off we go, headed once again for Don’t Rock. After you cross the Gulf Stream, Don’t Rock (which is a navigation point) becomes visible fairly soon. The next step is tricky and depends on the stage of the tides, the depth of your keel, and the time of day. You don’t want to attempt this at night. If you sail directly for the Rock, you can save about nine hours. If you use the navigational charts, which you should, it takes much longer, but you’re safe. We decided to go for it, and as it turned out, it was a major mistake laced with some weird JuJu.

We got about three quarters of the way in to Don’t Rock and started “bumping the bottom”. Then we started to run aground (damn near hard aground), darkness was approaching, and we asked ourselves “what are we going to do now?” Our situation was not good.

This is where it gets Cosmic. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, a couple of Dolphins showed up and began swimming around the boat, jumping in and out of the water, like they were trying to get our attention. Then they’d swim aft for about 50 yards, return to the boat, and repeat the jumping again. We thought this was too cool, so we had a cold beverage and took some pictures. We were still discussing how to get out of this mess when someone said (I’ll take the credit, maybe), “lets follow the Dolphins, maybe they’re trying to show us the way out”. We certainly didn’t have anything to lose, so we began to follow them. And that is EXACTLY what they did. They showed us the way out. We did not “bump the bottom” once. It was simply amazing!

That is all.

Nope, there is one more thing. If you want to fish for Barracuda, and have no steel leaders, just use the wire that is used to connect stereo speakers. Yeap, that’s right, we gutted that damn boat.

All had a good time.

I am Yabu, and I’m drinkin’ all of Neck’s beer.